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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376501">Stargazing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelica_writes/pseuds/Angelica_writes'>Angelica_writes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Imagines [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Band of Brothers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Era, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e02 Day of Days, F/M, Fluff, WWII, World War Two, Worry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:00:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27376501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelica_writes/pseuds/Angelica_writes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick takes a little walk after D-Day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Winters/Reader, Dick Winters/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Imagines [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stargazing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This Day of Days was finally over. Most of the men were trying to get some shut eye, exhausted after their first taste of combat. But not Dick Winters. Having checked the men were okay, he decided to take a walk around the outskirts of Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. Winters knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He was just as exhausted, perhaps even more so, than his men, but the adrenaline was still burning through him. In the past forty-eight hours Winters had experienced a range of emotions that he’d never felt before, and knew he never would again. There would be other battles, other drops, other deaths; but today had marked his first, after two years of anticipation. Now that it was over, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. Winters felt like a completely different man to who he’d been on that English airfield a mere day ago. He hadn’t gone into battle naive, far from it, but it’s impossible to know how you’d feel killing a man until you actually do it. Winters had never seen a dead body before. </p><p>His thoughts drifted to Lieutenant Meehan, to his genial smile and his baby daughter who’d never know her father. Sure, they hadn’t heard any news of Meehan’s plane, but Winters wasn’t stupid; he knew that it was highly unlikely there would be any survivors. An entire planeload of soldiers killed before they’d fired a single shot at the enemy. Every time Winters blinked, he saw the boyish handsomeness of John Hall’s face, and he thought of the young life that had been extinguished that day. Somewhere back in the States, the Hall family would receive a telegram, and there would permanently be an empty chair at their dinner table. Winters knew there would be countless other families who had lost sons, brothers and fathers that day, and who would in the brutal months of fighting he knew were to come. So, Winters did the only thing he could think of to do in that quiet, calm moment, and he decided to pray. </p><p>Dear Lord, I thank you for getting me safely through this day of days. I ask that you do the same, for me and for the men, on D-Day Plus One, so that they might return safely home to their families and life long and happy lives in peace. I also ask that I return home, when all this carnage is over, with Y/N, and we can create our own little quiet corner of the world. Amen.</p><p>Having finished his prayer, Winters looked up at the night sky, his gaze getting lost in the smattering of glinting stars and the light emitted by the crescent moon. He wondered how something that now looked so beautiful and tranquil could have held such horrors for the airborne troops less than twenty-four hours ago, when they sat helpless as their pilots attempted to avoid Nazi planes and flak. Winters was startled out of his daze by the sound of soft footsteps behind him, coming closer. He whipped around and readied his rifle. </p><p>“Flash,” he whispered. </p><p>“Thunder,” you came closer, out of the shadows, and the moonlight lit up your face. Dick marvelled in your beauty. You still had streaks of faded black paint across your cheeks; your hair, finally free from its helmet, was greasy, you were caked in sweat and dirt, and you looked closer to death than he’d ever seen you. Nevertheless, he saw only beauty. </p><p>“Hi,” he held out his hand for you to hold and intertwined your fingers together. “You really should say the password sooner, you know, I was close to shooting you.” </p><p>“You looked so lost in your thoughts, I was reluctant to disturb you,” you chuckled. Dick didn’t respond, his thumb absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your hand, his eyes turned heavenward. “What are you thinking about?” you decided to break the silence. </p><p>“Meehan. Hall. What a difference a day makes,” his voice was quiet, and you knew he was brooding. You dropped his hand and cuddled into his side. </p><p>“We can never be the people we were a day ago,” you replied, understanding exactly how Dick felt. “But, one day, we’ll be back home. Together.” Dick finally tore his gaze from the dark sky, looking into your eyes. As you looked into his, you saw a sorrow that hadn’t been there yesterday. But you also saw hope, hope for a better future.</p>
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